


You Are My Lucky Star

by BastardSonOfDay (Diana_Raven)



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, there are other people too but I don't think i'll tag em cuz they arent main characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-05-30 07:49:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15092348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diana_Raven/pseuds/BastardSonOfDay
Summary: Singin' In the Rain AURhysand is living it up in an age of silent films, but when the first Talkie is made the game changes. As Rhysand deals with his crush on an up-and-coming actor and the sudden change to working in Talkies, he has to also use his wit and creativity to save his job and Prythian Studios from possibly their biggest flop ever--Fitznox and Scarlett's latest film.





	1. Riches All Around, Stars Are On the Ground

**Author's Note:**

> Quite clearly, a Singin' In the Rain AU. 
> 
> Me????? Writing a non-gen fic????? Don't worry, i'm still your local gen writer, but this had feysand written all over it so I had to. And Lucien is in it, because.... it's Who I Am As A Person. 
> 
> UH Rhysand's last name is Fitznox and Amarantha's is Scarlett. Uhhhhhhhhh ye. Probably won't end up being as long as I originally planned but that's okay. 
> 
> First chapter's title is from Dying in LA by P!AtD
> 
> Here goes nothing.

Rhysand was having a good day.

He’d woken up at noon after a late night supervising the final editing of the film. He’d eaten a brunch with Cassian and Azriel like normal, a nice filling meal since their dinner would be at the studio, and those things were never filling. Afterwards he’d taken Azriel and Cassian to rent their suits and for all of them to get their hair done. When they were done it was back to Rhysand’s to change and then to Prythian Pictures to meet the others for the limo.

Rhysand _was_ having a good day, then he remembered he needed to go to the premiere of his newest movie with his costar. Then his day became… decidedly less good.

Amarantha looked like she always did. Poised, and like she would rather eat belladonna than have her arm wrapped around Rhysand’s. Rhysand couldn’t disagree.

Before Rhysand and Amarantha could say a word to one another, they were rushed into their limo, Cassian and Azriel barely making it in before the doors were forcefully shut and the limo was off to the premiere.

“Remember,” Tamlin Rose reminded the boys, “in and out, one or two questions. Anything bad and we’ll handle it.” He said, nodding to Lucien who was smoothing out Tamlin’s tie.

Tamlin Rose was the head of Prythian Pictures, and the face of the company while Lucien Vanserra was his right hand. Lucien was the one that Rhysand dealt with more, as he actually had a job besides being pretty (which he hadn’t really been since he had returned from the War).

“Azriel, you have the score for the orchestra?” Lucien asked.

Azriel nodded, and patted his chest pocket. “Good. We can’t have any incidents like last time.” Lucien snapped, leveling his good eye at Cassian who was twiddling with his boutonniere.

“That was _one_ time!” Cassian defended.

Lucien raised an eyebrow.

Cassian sighed. “I’ll stay away from the sheet music and all forms of tobacco, but I _do_ think you’re overreacting.” Cassian grumbled.

“I don’t. And it’s what I think that matters.” Lucien said.

Amarantha snorted, and looked out of the shaded windows. She crossed one leg over the other, her white dress exposing a gracious amount of thigh.

Lucien rolled his eye, and opened a compartment beneath his and Tamlin’s seats. “Liquid courage anyone?” He asked, pulling out a handful of glasses and a bottle of champagne.

Each of the occupants of in the car took a filled glass. “To Prythian Pictures, and the actors which make us so much money.” Tamlin toasted.

“To my gorgeous partner and her ability to swoon on cue.” Rhysand said.

“To the populace, who watch every film we make.” Lucien added.

Cassian grinned. “To Rhysand Fitznox and Amarantha Scarlett, the sweetheart stars of the silver screen, who keep bringing them back to the theaters.”

“Amen.” Azriel agreed. They clinked their glasses and each took at least a small sip (Lucien and Rhysand had only the smallest of sips, while Tamlin and Cassian both chugged their glasses in one gulp).

The separation between the driver and the limo-occupants rolled down as the driver said: “We have arrived, sirs and lady.”

And the limo began to roll into the chaos of screaming fans.

* * *

Clare Beddor stood on the red carpet that led into the premiere theater. The crowds of screaming fans around her pulsed with energy. Clare was excited herself, it was the first time she’d ever covered the red carpet on premiere night.

“And our stars are pulling up!” Clare chipped into the microphone as a limo rolled to the curb. “In our first car of the night we have the beautiful and glamorous Morrigan! Her name needing no other distinction! Mor, darling, what do you have to say to the cameras about the films that will be shown here tonight?”

The Morrigan looked gorgeous as ever, women and men and everything in between stumbled over themselves to push past the police holding the fans at bay, just trying to get a glimpse of her.

Morrigan flipped her blonde hair gaily. “Oh, just that I’m proud of my dear cousin and his… crew. I just _know_ it’ll be amazing!”

“Thank you!” Clare called to her as she walked past and into the theater. Clare greeted and interviewed more and more stars until, at last, she got to meet the ones the whole fuss was always for.

Rhysand Fitznox’s car pulled up.

“And here they come now! The lovers of the silver screen! Rhysand Fitznox and Amarantha Scarlett!”

The posse looked beautiful as usual. Rhysand in a striking midnight blue suit, and Amarantha in a fashionable white number, with her furs wrapped around her. “And look! They’ve brought with them Rhysand’s dear brothers and coworkers, Azriel and Cassian Fitznox. And who’s that behind them? Why, it’s the famously fabulous Tamlin Rose! Producer and CEO of Prythian Pictures, and his partner Lucien Vanserra!” Clare rushed up to them, shoved her camera in Rhysand and Amarantha’s faces. “Tell me, what do you wish your fans to know before your latest movie! I hear it gets quite raunchy between the two of you~ Can there be a possibility of wedding bells in your futures?” She teased.

Amarantha opened her mouth to speak but Rhysand cut her off. “Well, Clare, as you know Amarantha and I have quite the chemistry on set, but as for wedding bells, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we, love?” He asked Amarantha. She opened her mouth to respond and he cut her off again. “As for our fans, all we have to say, is that we love them! We do this for them and they are just as wonderful and beautiful as ever!” Rhysand smiled winningly into the cameras and Amarantha did the same, tightening her grip on Rhysand’s arm.

“Well, I guess you two had better be moving along~” Clare hummed. She then let them pass and bombarded Tamlin with the rest of her questions, he grinned for the camera perfectly. Neither of them noticed Lucien joining Azriel and Cassian on their unencumbered way into the theater.

* * *

Once they reached the backstage area from where they would introduce the film and then afterwards give a few speeches, Amarantha exploded in anger, shoving Lucien. Cassian dove to hold her back.

“ _What_ was that all _about_?” She screeched. “ _I_ thought we’d agreed that _I_ would get to speak this time!” She shrill voice scratching against their ears.

“ _I_ thought we’d agreed,” Lucien began through gritted teeth as Cassian managed to hold her back, “that it wasn’t the _right time_.”

“Wasn’t the right time? _Wasn’t the right time_? _I_ have been the star of _ninety-nine_ films with this company and _not once_ have I been allowed to answer a question on the carpet!”

“Amarantha, _dear_ ,” Lucien spit, “you know as well as I, that Rhysand just does better with the reporters than you. Remember when you made one cry through a letter correspondence? It’s just better for the company, darling.”

“Well, you-you can write me a speech! I’ll memorize it!”

Cassian snickered, he knew as well as the other men in the room that her small temper, while yes an issue, was much less of one than the real problem with her speech. She whipped around, glaring daggers at him.

“What? Think I can’t do it? You think I’m dumb or somethin’?”

Azriel kicked Cassian in the shin. “Of course he doesn’t think you’re dumb, it’s just… what if they ask a question you haven’t memorized an answer to? Or you have to lie, like tonight? Rhysand is much better at that. Your flaw is that you’re so… honest.” He said hastily.

Amarantha harrumphed. “I guess you’re right...” She said. “Fine. Rhysand can make the speech tonight.”

Lucien sighed and rubbed his temples anxiously. “I’ll be right back, I have to check on the projector… Az, watch them, will you?” He asked.

Azriel nodded solemnly.

Lucien just hoped Amarantha wouldn’t pull any of this shit at the party later. Tonight was going to be a bumpy ride.

* * *

Feyre Archeron was having a good day until Rhysand Fitznox jumped screaming into her car and yelled at her to drive.

Feyre had had a nice day. It had started with her job at the coffee shop, of which she’d had a nice shift where not one asshole pinched her ass. Then she’d gotten word back from Prythian Pictures from her audition and she’d gotten the part! Which was where she was on her way to when the most famous actor from the silver screen, one of the two most gorgeous couple in Hollywood, Rhysand Fitznox.

“Drive!” He shouted. His tuxedo was almost ripped from his body, his sleeves were gone and his shirt was shredded. One of his pant legs were almost torn off and his tie was ripped in half.

Feyre did the first thing to come to mind—she screamed.

“Oh no! Please don’t scream!” He begged. “I won’t hurt you! Promise!”

Well now she was worried. He looked like he’d just been mauled! “Get-get out! What are you doing in my car? Why, I should report you to the police! Help! Police! Hel-”

He slapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m not going to hurt you! Please stop screaming! I already have a huge headache.”

Feyre did the mature thing and licked his hand. Rhysand recoiled, “Ew!”

“Why are you in my car?”

“Listen, my name is Rhysand Fitznox, and I was just mobbed. Could would you mind dropping me off at-?”

“ _Mobbed_?”

“Duh,”

 _Duh_ , she thought, _did he just say ‘duh’ to me?_

“ _Excuse me_?”

“I’m sorry, I mean, you’re very kind for not calling the police. It’s just being mobbed by fans is not uncommon for me. It’s just awful, the way some fans are just obsessed. I mean, I appreciate when they got to see every film but the posters that Amarantha and I must pose for, and the featurettes, and the mobs outside the premieres… you know...”

Feyre tried to keep her attention to the road. She had to admit she was offended! She would have been one of the fans at that premiere if she hadn’t had the job at Prythian Pictures! Rhysand Fitznox was in her car complaining about fans, people just like her! People who adored him and Amarantha and always wanted the two of them to be happy! She couldn’t believe those lovely people she had met back at the premieres would act so horribly to the love of the silver screen!

Well, fine. If Rhysand didn’t want to talk to his fans, then he wouldn’t.

“You have fans?” Feyre asked, eyebrow raised. “What for?”

Rhysand looked taken aback. Good.

“I’m-I’m an actor. I was at a premiere tonight.”

“An actor? Why, what in?”

“What in-? Have you been living under a rock for the last few days?”

“Well, that’s very rude. I haven’t been living under a rock. I just don’t have time to spend at the movies.”

“Don’t have time to spend- What do you do then?”

“Oh… you know, go to the theater...” Feyre said. Technically she wasn’t lying. She did spend a lot of time at the theater, when, you know, she wasn’t at the movies.

“Go to the theater…?”

“Yes, you know. Real acting. Real audiences. Real talent.”

“ _Real talent_?” Rhysand cried.

Feyre knew she’d gone too far, but she’d panicked and said the first thing she could. She had to stick to it now… her pride was at stake.

“Oh, and what pretentious profession are you that you can look down on me, a lowly picture star?”

Feyre sniffed. “I’m an actress.”

“An actress?” He said with a laugh.

“Yes, and if you’re going to make fun of me you can get out of my car!” Feyre snapped. She pulled over to the side of the road.

“Fine! I don’t want your help anyway!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

And Feyre drove off. She could hear him cursing all the way down the road.

She wasn’t far now from Prythian Pictures so she hurried along. She pulled up to the guard checkpoint and asked for directions to the party. He sent her on her way.

The dressing room was in the back of the building where the faculty workers (such as janitors and secretaries) parked. She walked through and a distracted women yelled at her to state her part.

“I’m the cake girl.”

“Ah, wonderful! I thought you’d never get here! Alis! _Alis_! Get over here and give the cake girl her costume!”

Feyre was shoved around. She was ordered into a costume, and thrown into a makeup chair where she was slapped with a layer of foundation, blush, eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick. Finally she was allowed her last bathroom break and she climbed into the cake and was sealed up inside. Darkness enclosed around her.

* * *

She waited until Tamlin Rose spoke the words of congratulations. The cake was deceptively thin, so she could hear her cue. “-And,” he continued, “in honor of the great work all of you do for us, on the eve of one of the best premieres in our history, we thank you all. And we give you all this wonderful party! Congratulations all. Now let’s cut open this cake!”

The knife pressed into the fake cake and Feyre burst from the cake, striking her rehearsed pose. She gasped in mortification when she saw who held the knife.

And there, standing right in front of her, was Rhysand Fitznox, jaw agape, and eyes wide and shining with delight. He was in a new suit, his hair fixed. And he was staring right at her.

The music began to play. No time to worry about it now. She had a show to do.

“So, the theater, huh?” He said, and began to laugh.


	2. Silent Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A change is coming to film...

“No wait! Please-!”

“I’m sorry, I can’t talk right now.” The girl hissed as she tossed out confetti.

“Listen, if you could just deign to speak to me-”

“I. Have a show. To do.”

“Alright.” Rhysand said, holding up his hands. “Alright.”

The girl ran off and danced.

Rhysand was astounded. She was a good line dancer. A good singer, too.

“Hey Rhys, like your present?” Cassian asked with grin. He bumped his fist against Rhys’s shoulder. Rhys was wearing one of his extra suits, Azriel didn’t have any at the studio but Cass did. It was a little big in the… well everywhere, but it wasn’t too noticeable the way Rhys wore it.

“That’s the girl, Cass.”

“What?” Cassian asked. He was a little drunk so he wasn’t as witty.

“That’s the girl.”

“Hey Az, get over here.”

“What, Cass?” Azriel asked exasperated as he left his (probably) riveting conversation with Morrigan.

“That girl. That’s the girl.” Cassian repeated, pointing to Feyre. Rhys’s eyes widened and he pushed down Cass’s hands hastily.

“Don’t point!”

“’The girl’… you mean the one who dropped you off on the side of the road?” Azriel asked, with interest.

“Yeah.”

“I thought she told you she was a-”

“Shh! Shh! She did!”

“Well, _go talk to her_!” Cassian insisted.

“No! She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Well, not during her act, idiot.” Az said rolling his eyes.

Rhysand gave Az a _look_ and Azriel ignored it.

The song and dance finished and Rhysand rushed to the girl. He grabbed her arm. “Where do you get off insulting me for what I do, huh? I mean-”

“Rhys, darling! H-Who is this?” Amarantha asked as she walked over, throwing an arm over Rhys’s shoulders.

“I stand by what I said! But you know, I did learn one thing from the movies!” The girl turned to her left, grabbing a cream pie from one of the food trolly servers. Rhysand instinctively dodged the pie, so when the girl threw it the pie went _splat!_ against Amarantha’s pretty face. Amarantha began to scream.

Her jaw dropped open and she ran, pushing past Rhys. When Rhys tried to run after her Amarantha stopped him, causing a scene by her hyperventilation.

Rhysand couldn’t find her, the girl had disappeared in the chaos.

When Rhysand had finally handed Amarantha off to get cleaned up, Rhysand ran into the changing room for the dancers. The room was filled with women, but none of them looked like the girl.

“Where’s the cake girl! Hey,” He tapped one of the dancers on the shoulder, “where’s the girl from the cake?”

“Oh, she just left.”

“ _Just left_?” Rhysand cried. He ran out to the entrance just in enough time to see the girl pulled away in her car. “Hey! Wait! _Wait_!” He called to her, but she was gone.

* * *

Rhysand sighed loudly. Cassian and Azriel shared a look before returning to the meal they were having. Rhysand sighed loudly again.

“What’s wrong?” Azriel asked, putting down his fork.

“Oh… _nothing_...” Rhysand said with another sigh.

Azriel rolled his eyes.

“Fine. Don’t talk about it.” Cassian sniffed.

“It’s just...” Rhys picked at his lunch. “I _feel so low_! Do I really have no talent?”

“Is this about your last film? That… french aristocrat one?” Cassian asked, waving his fork in the air.

Rhys let his head fall onto the table and he whimpered.

Azriel rolled his eyes. Cassian returned the statement.

“It’s all so… fake!”

“You’re an actor, Rhys.”

“I-I mean these pictures! She was right! These films I pop out one after one… there’s nothing new! Nothing different! No talent! See! You don’t even remember what the last film was about!”

“Uch...” Cassian groaned. “Are we back on this girl?”

“Why not? She has a point-!”

“No, she doesn’t.” Azriel argued. “You, and Mor… you’re all talented people. Even Cassian is talented at getting hit in the head!”

“Yeah!” Cass cried. He paused for a moment then turned to his brother. “Hey!”

Azriel grinned into his meal.

Rhys sighed, but his sigh now had more levity in it than before. “I guess you’re right… I just…. can’t get her out of my head!”

“Well, we looked in every cake in town. All empty!” Cass said. “Just forget about her, you’re never going to see her again.”

“It’s not like you even know her name.” Az added.

Rhys moaned defeatedly. “I’ll never see her again!”

“Look at that!” Morrigan cried, interrupting Rhys’s lament. She threw a newspaper down on the table where the brothers ate. “Another one praising The Spring Court Singer! I thought it’d flop for sure! Everyone did!”

“Aw, c’mon Mor, I’m sure it isn’t doing that well-...”

“‘That well?’ The way it’s going it’ll probably do better than anything we’ve ever seen before!” Morrigan whined. She took Azriel’s fork from his hand and began eating his meal, picking out the vegetables and carefully spearing them with the utensil.

“Really?”

“The audiences are sucking it up like good brandy.” Mor said. “You can read it here for yourself.” She said motioning to the paper.

**SPRING COURT SINGER TAKING HOLLYWOOD BY STORM; Talkies are all the Talk! Is this the end of Silent Movies?**

“I still say its ridiculous. ‘Talkies are all the Talk’… talk is all they are! Nothing more. We’ll see them gone within the month.” Cassian grumbled.

* * *

“We’re ruined! Ruined, I tell you!” Tamlin roared, throwing one of his many production awards across the room. It hit the wall and shattered into pieces. Lucien leaned against an opposite wall, out of the way as Tamlin grabbed another microphone shaped award and threw it.

“Ta-Tam-” Lucien tried to interrupt but Tamlin just hurled another award. Lucien flinched away as a shard flew near him and decided to take a different spot for refuge.

“How are we going to compete?” Tamlin snarled. “All of this!” He grabbed one of the newspapers on his desk and ripped it to shreds. “It’s useless! Talkies are going to put us out of business! All this Fitznox and Scarlett promotions we’ve been doing—gone! We’re done for!”

Burned out and with nothing else to throw, Tamlin sank into his desk-chair and put his head in his hands.

“This isn’t the end, Tam.” Lucien said, softly so as not to reset off his rage. “We can upgrade our sets and equipment...”

“We’ll have to hire _actual_ writers! And there goes our orchestra—now we need sound technicians!”

“And we’ll get them. We’ll get it all—just leave it to me.” Lucien promised, though he wasn’t sure he could keep it. “Diction coaches! We’ll hire diction coaches, and teach our directors to work with sound! We’ll wire the place. Don’t worry.”

Tamlin smiled up at Lucien, taking his hand. “What would I do without you?”

Lucien pulled it from Tamlin’s and patted his shoulder encouragingly. “Just get working on your remarks, you have a public statement to make today. Prythian Pictures is moving to sound film!”


	3. All I Do is Dream of You

“Diction coaches?” Cassian asked surprised.

“Yeah, they’re mandatory.” Rhysand said, waving the memo in his face.

“ _Quiet on set_!” Thesan called. Rhysand and Cassian shushed. “Roll it!”

Helion began to sing. He was filming a new commercial for the company, one he seemed to like filming for very much. He danced with women around him, they twirled and followed him adoringly, their colorful costumes, though colorless on screen, added necessary flair.

Helion had been getting a lot of work lately, after all he’d been in singing classes since he was knee-high. That was where he and Rhysand had met.

Azriel took the memo from Rhysand’s hands and read it over. Only to have it taken from his hands by someone who’s presence the three of them were usually more aware of: Lucien Vanserra.

Lucien scanned it, and gave the memo back to Azriel. He joined the three of them in chairs behind the camera.

“Hey, Luce, who’s that?” Cass asked, nodding to the throng of girls surrounding Helion.

“Which one? The blonde one or like… every other single girl?”

“The one that-”

“Oh my god.” Rhysand interrupted, standing up.

“ _Sit down_!” Thesan snapped. “ _We’re rolling! Quiet!_ ” Thesan sighed as he realized he’d have to start over. “ _Alright! Cut! Let’s roll it from the beginning! Quiet on set!_ ”

Rhysand pulled Lucien away from the set. “Girl on the right of Helion,” he said nodding to a strikingly familiar girl in a beautiful glittering dress.

“You like her? We’re thinking of casting her in the role of Mor’s little sister in her new picture. She’s got a great voice on her.”

“What’s her name?”

“Uh...” Lucien thought for a moment. “Feyre something… Archeron, I believe.”

“Is she scheduled during lunch-?”

“Why? You want to ask her out?” Lucien asked with a raised eyebrow.

Rhysand flushed. “I-I just want to talk. She’s… the girl.”

“The girl?”

“The girl who… _you know…_ ” Rhysand waved subtly to his suit.

Lucien’s eyes widened. “ _That’s_ her?”

“Yeah!”

Lucien chewed on his lip. “I don’t know, Rhys… if you make a wrong move she could-”

“I won’t. I’ll be good. Promise.” Rhysand said, hands raised in surrender.

“Okay, I’ll mention to her after rehearsal that you’d like to see her.” Lucien said.

“Thanks, Luce.” Rhys said with a grin, punching his shoulder fondly. Rhysand turned back to the set and sat with his brothers, Lucien sat behind them.

Finally Thesan called for a break and Lucien walked onto set to congratulate Helion on his good work, and he called Feyre over.

“I guess I’m out of a job now.” Azriel muttered.

“Aw, c’mon Az, who do you think is going to need to write the scores for these things? Or run the orchestras?” Cass said encouragingly. “Right, Rhys? … Rhys?” Rhysand was preoccupied by watching Lucien and Feyre talk. Feyre’s eyes widened and she glanced around frantically, then she and Rhysand made eye contact.

She ran.

“Yeah, Cass. Gotta go-” Rhysand took off after her. “Hey! Wait up!”

“Hey! _Hey_!”

Rhysand rounded a corner and almost ran into her. She’d skidded to a stop in a dead-end, clutching her side. She was wearing that beautiful dress. Glittering and shimmering. It refracted light off onto the walls of the studio and onto Rhys himself, like stars.

She looked scared.

“Please-! Please don’t get me fired! Please don’t-”

“I’m not going to get you fired!” Rhysand cried, abhorred at the thought.

“You-You’re not?”

“No!”

“Then why did you chase after me? Why did you want to meet me after lunch?”

“I um, I just wanted to talk.”

“You just wanted to talk…?” Feyre frowned.

“Yeah, just talk. You’re-I know this must sound crazy, but you’re the first person in a while who met me and hasn’t been blinded by my fame. It’s…” Rhys paused as he thought for a word. “Refreshing.”

“Refreshing...” She frowned, skeptically. “Okay, say I buy it, what’s in it for me?”

“Free lunch with a beautiful,” Rhysand flipped his hair for emphasis, “and famous film actor.”

“Okay. Fine. But only because I’m poor and hungry.”

Rhysand grinned. “Of course.”

* * *

“So…” He asked as they sat in front of one of the studios, eating some corner-street hot dogs from a vendor. “You’re a _theater_ actress, huh?”

Feyre shrugged, messily licking some dripping ketchup from her hand. “Film’s evolving. Plus, you know, whatever pays the bills.”

Feyre was gorgeous.

Not in a wow, wind in her hair, look at the way that dress bends around her, but in a licking ketchup off her hands as she balanced her overstuffed hoagie so as not to drip on her costume.

“What?” She asked, mouth open, food half-chewed.

Rhysand smiled at her. “Nothing.” He played with the straw in this soda.

“Why did you think I would try to get you fired?”

Feyre shrugged. “After that fiasco at the party, I figured you’d never want me to work in this town again.”

“What? Why would you think that?”

Feyre looked confused. “Because they fired me. I’d been a model employee but one bad altercation with-”

“They _fired you_?” Rhysand cried. “I had _nothing_ to do with that!” He promised. Someone had gotten Feyre fired! It had been a joke, Rhysand had gotten that! Who wouldn’t have-

Amarantha.

Rhysand’s mouth dropped open. “Oh no.”

Feyre frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“I-I um, I just realized something.” Rhysand said. “But I promise! You won’t get fired because of me.”

“Thanks, that’s reassuring.” Rhysand couldn’t tell if Feyre was being sarcastic or not.

“I’m really sorry about you losing your job, though.”

Feyre shrugged. “It’s okay. The pay was terrible anyway.”

“You don’t seem too broken up about it.”

“When you’re an actress, you get desensitized to rejection.” Feyre took another bite of her hot dog.

“I can’t imagine anyone rejecting you.”

“Smooth.”

“Well, I am Fitznox of Fitznox and Scarlett. I do have some experience in making women swoon. But, I said that because it’s true. I can’t imagine someone rejecting you.”

Feyre blushed.

“You have a beautiful voice.” He said softly.

Feyre blushed again. “My… break is almost over.” She stuffed the rest of her lunch in her mouth. “But, um, thank you.”

Rhysand grinned and looked down at his own untouched hot-dog. “I’d like to see you again, if, you know, if you want.”

“I’d like that.” Feyre said. “I’d like that a lot.” Then Feyre stood and brushed off her costume. She turned, and walked back to the studio and Rhys watched her go—entranced, and unable to look away.

* * *

“Peter piper picked a pack of pickled peppers.” The diction coach said.

“Peter Piper picked a pack of pickled peppers.” Rhysand repeated dully.

“How many pickled pepper did Peter Piper pick?”

“How many pickled pepper did Peter Piper pick?”

“Good. How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?”

“A woodchuck could chuck however much wood a woodchuck could chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood.”

Rhysand was about to repeat the tongue twister when the door burst open.

“Rhysie!” Cassian cried as he ran into the room, throwing an arm around Rhys’s shoulders. Azriel followed sheepishly.

“Hey, Cass.”

“You off for lunch yet?”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow and nodded to his diction coach who stood open-mouthed and clearly offended.

“Oh sorry, chum.” Cassian said flippantly. He peeked over the diction coach’s shoulder. “What’re you working on?”

“Sorry for interrupting.” Az added.

“Tongue twisters.” The coach said.

“Oh really? I’m horrible at those! Do one for me!” He said, eyes round and wide.

Flustered, the diction coach did. “Hmm, how about this one. Moses supposes his toes-es are roses.” As he turned to Rhysand to preform the tongue twister Cassian made faces behind his back, making Rhysand giggle. Confused, the diction coach turned to Cassian but Cass changed his face back to that wide, listening expression. “But Moses supposes erroneously.” Cassian continued making the faces and when the diction coach glanced back at him because of Rhys’s smile and Az’s snorts, he changed his expression back to an awed ponderance. “Moses, he knows-es his toes-es aren’t roses as Moses supposes his toes-es to be.”

Azriel tapped his fingers against the wall, beating out a rhythm absently.

“Now you try.” The diction coach said.

“Oh I couldn’t-”

“No one is _bad_ at tongue twisters, not with the proper instruction.” He insisted

Cassian sighed and took the book that the coach read the twisters from out of his hands.

“Moses supposes his toes-es are roses,” Cassian read.

“Great!”

“But Moses supposes erroneously.”

“Moses, he _knows-es_ his toes-es aren’t roses.” Rhysand recited, wagging a finger at Cassian.

“As Moses supposes his toes-es to be!” Cassian cried.

“Great job!”

The beat that Azriel drummed out on the wall stuck in Rhysand’s head. “Moses supposes his toes-es are roses-” He said along with the beat. “-but Moses supposes erroneously.”

“Moses, he knows _-es_ his toes-es aren’t roses!” Cassian added, continuing to keep the rhythm of the words with the beat.

Azriel began humming, composing a tune for them on the spot.

“As Moses supposes his toes-es to be!”

Cassian laughed and began tap-dancing to the beat. He threw his arms out, as if on stage. “Moses!”

“Supposes his toes-es are roses!” Rhysand cried out after him, copying the move Cassian had done.

“But _Mo_ -ses! Knows his toes aren’t roses!” Another move, Cassian’s shoes slapped against the floor.

“As Moses supposes his toes-es to be!” Rhysand copies him.

“A Mose is a Mose!”

“A rose is a rose!”

“A toes is a toes!”

Azriel found a handful of extra instruments in the corner of the room—probably stuffed there for storage. Sitting at the extra piano he began preforming the tune. Cassian grinned as he pulled Rhysand up on the table in the room and together the two of them preformed an old choreographed dance they’d preformed when they were younger. They jumped off the table and danced on the floor, singing the little song they’d given the tongue twister.

Rhysand loved to sing and dance. If he had to be honest, he barely did anymore—ever since he became a film star he couldn’t sing and any dancing he did had to be done with Amarantha, who couldn’t dance to save her life, or as some type of fake fight. It wasn’t as fun that way, he couldn’t show off his skills in tap as he and his brothers had loved to when they were younger. They would find a wooden surface and just freestyle.

Azriel ended the ditty and Cassian and Rhysand came to a stop, while Rhys’s diction coach (who had sat down in one of the chairs in the room while he watched dumbfounded) stood and came over to them, eyes wide.

“Bravo!” He clapped. “Wow! That was fabulous!”

Breathing hard, Rhysand laughed. He wiped a droplet of sweat from his brow and fixed his hair. Cassian belly-laughed. “Damn straight it was! Man, Rhysand, we haven’t danced like that in forever! I thought you would have forgotten how!”

Rhysand grinned back and slapped his brother on the arm. “So did I! Guess I need to get back in shape though!”

“That was really amazing, Rhysand! I didn’t know you could sing like that!” The diction coach repeated, eyes wide.

Rhysand shrugged. “I don’t sing much… Maybe in the Talkies I will.” He said with a shrug.

Lucien knocked on the door and poked his head in. “Sorry Suri,” he said to the diction coach, “I gotta take them. Your next student will be here in a little, she’s at lunch now—Morrigan Nox.”

“Sure,” Suri El said with a nod. “Lucien! Did you know Rhysand could sing and dance?” He cried.

Lucien smiled. “Yeah, he’s good, isn’t he?”

“I’m right here!” Rhys cried.

Lucien rolled his eyes, amusedly. “C’mon boys, we’ve got work to do.” He said. The Fitznox boys thanked Mr. El and filed out after Lucien.

“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Lucien asked the boys.

Cass shrugged. “I guess not. Sorry Luce, I’ll never doubt you again.” He threw an arm over Lucien’s shoulders.

Lucien shrugged it off. “You shouldn’t have been in there anyway. It was for Rhysand. _He’s_ the actor.”

“I’m an actor!”

“You’re a stunt-man. Different thing.”

“That’s how Rhys got started, stunting! Why haven’t I been prompted to actor yet, huh?”

“Because Rhysand’s prettier.” Lucien said rolling his eyes.

They’d arrived at Tamlin’s office and he pulled open the door to Amarantha. Rhysand sighed. “Another day, another film. Let me guess, I’m a rich aristocrat and she’s a poor German girl.”

“Wrong.” Tamlin said. “You’re a rich Fae Prince and she’s a poor British girl.”

“Ah, my bad. Of course.”

 _They really all were the same, these pictures,_ Rhysand thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that you have until the 27th to send me an angsty prompt for the last in the bingo series


	4. Starstruck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feysand date

For their next date, Rhysand had to admit, while he planned most of it, he owed a major portion to his family. They were the ones who convinced Lucien to leave the studio open after dark and let them run around to prepare.

Then, when eight o’clock came and Feyre arrived in her car uncertainly at Prythian Productions (as requested), Rhysand had rushed everyone out and thanked them for their help. Cassian made a rude gesture that Azriel made him apologize for. Mor winked at him and said something about as scandalous as Cass had gestured and Azriel bloomed red and told her to apologize as well. Rhys had laughed though, and gave them kisses in thanks before shutting the back door to the studio and locking it for privacy.

He met Feyre at the gates and blindfolded her, giving his hands to her to guide her. She followed, giggling at the ridiculousness of the situation (especially after Rhysand tripped and pulled her down accidentally). Finally, he led her into the studio.

He set her in the perfect spot, then ran off to the effects booths.

“You can take off your blindfold now!” He called.

Feyre took it off and twisted it in her hands nervously. “Rhys?” She called. “Where are you?” The stage she was on was dark, and she couldn’t see anything.

“Just setting the mood!” He called. “First, a gentle night breeze.” He flicked on the fan. Feyre’s hair fluttered behind her prettily.

She giggled, wiping a few strands from her face.

Rhys grinned to himself. “Moonlight to dapple your hair!” He flicked on the overhead lights, making them a purpleish pink.

“Are you always this dorky on first dates?” She asked.

“This is our second date!”

“Technically it’s our first, you never asked me out on the other one.”

Rhys couldn’t argue with her. “Fine.” He conceded. He flipped another switch. “Fog, from the nearby mountains.”

Feyre looked around as fog joined her on the sound stage. She glanced at the empty scene behind her. “Okay… what about that?”

“Patience!” Rhys called. He rushed down backstage and cranked the scene. “Scenery!” He said with a flourish.

He heard Feyre gasp. She’d better, he’d dragged four techies helping him find this background from storage (they’d used it in one of his pictures… a background with a starry sky and mountains).

“And finally! Mood music!” He said, putting the record on the phonograph. It was just some soft jazz he’d asked Azriel to compose for him.

He joined her out on the stage. Her eyes widened. In the simulated moonlight she looked more beautiful than ever.

Rhysand wheeled in the set dinner table and placed it in the middle for them, bringing two chairs too. He pulled out Feyre’s chair for her, and she thanked him.

He lit the candles on top of the table and sat down across from her.

“Wow.” She breathed. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me.”

Rhysand smiled. He took her hand. “I’ve never wanted to do anything like this for anyone else.”

Feyre blushed. She took her hand back and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “So, did you do all of this yourself?”

Rhysand put his hands up in surrender. “You got me; I had help. Mor and my brothers. And Lucien, I guess, to a lesser extent.”

“‘Mor’?” Feyre quoted, an eyebrow raised.

“Well she’s my cousin, you know. I heard they put you on her latest picture. Have you started filming yet?”

Feyre shook her head. “I’ve only met her once or twice...”

“Once you start filming you’ll be able to call her ‘Mor’ too. She’s easy-going like that.”

Feyre grinned. “She seems so, from what I’ve heard. I’ve only just gotten my script. I was cast as her little sister. It’s quite a big role! Well, big for an unknown like me.”

“You’re not really an unknown! You did that ‘Beautiful Girl’ commercial with Helion, right?”

“Yeah! You remember that well…”

“Well, it’s where I found you again.” Rhysand said softly.

Feyre smiled, and took Rhysand’s hand. She squeezed. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

The date was going great, if Rhysand did say so himself. The food was good (Thanks Cassian!), the music Az had composed wasn’t too loud or disruptful, the fog (Mor’s idea) set a nice mood. The lights and fan canceled one another out too, so the temperature was just right.

They were about half-way through their meal when Feyre asked Rhys about his new film. “Oh, it’s not so interesting.” Rhysand said.

“I’d love to hear about it!”

“Okay… well, it’s about this Fae Prince who is desperately in love with this poor human woman,”

“Really?”

Rhysand took a sip of wine. “Yep. We get off to a bad start, fall in love, have to fight some bad guys. In the end I heroically save her and we all live happily ever after.”

“Oh yeah?” Feyre asked. “Sounds a little bit like the Dueling Caviler.”

Rhysand snorted. “Yeah well, I’ve come to realize a lot of my movies are like that...”

“Like what?”

“Bad.”

“Oh, they’re not bad!”

“They all have the same plot! You’ve seen one you’ve seen them all!”

“Oh, but that’s not true! When I used to watch the features with my sisters back home-”

“Back home?” Rhysand’s eyes widened. “You used to watch the _features_?” Feyre’s eyes widened as Rhysand pieced it together. “The features show all of them… You _are_ a fan!” He cried.

Feyre put her head in her hands. “Yeah.”

“You said you didn’t even know who I was when we met!”

“Well, you were being so mean to all those fans of yours, saying such horrible things-”

“They ripped my clothes off!”

“-they were just excited. The Fan Clubs mean well-”

“How do you know that?” Then the penny dropped. “Oh. My. God. _You_ were in a _fan club!_ ”

“ _In one_?” Feyre cried. Well, she figured, in for a penny in for a pound. “I was the head of one!”

“Oh my god.”

Feyre blushed. “Don’t think less of me-

“That’s so cute. You’re a _fan_? That’s _so_ cute!”

“Really?” Feyre asked, “you’re not… weirded out?”

“No! And really, I love my fans—promise. They just irritate me when they attack me like that. I didn’t mean any ill will, you understand.”

“Of course. Being mobbed must be horrible.”

Rhysand chewed on his food slowly, a grin on his face.

“What?” Feyre asked. She felt a little dizzy and hot from the wine.

“That’s so cute that you’re a fan. _You’re_ so cute.”

Feyre took his free hand in hers. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“I’d gladly be your biggest fan, Feyre Archeron.”

Feyre smiled. “Then we’d match.”

“Well, I’d have to start a fan club first.”

“Oh-!” Embarrassed, Feyre let go of his hand, pushing him gently.

“But I’d love to.”

Feyre was liking Rhysand Fitznox more and more. “Slick.”

“I always am.”

“Uh huh.”

“It’s true, ask anyone.”

“Sure.”

They were getting closer and closer to each other. Just inches away now.

“Feyre Archeron Fan Club. I like the sound of that.”

“I bet you do.”

Rhysand could feel her breath on his lips.

“You know what I like the sound of?” She asked, voice barely a whisper.

“What?”

“Feyre Fitznox.” She pressed her lips to his.

Rhysand grabbed her, pulling her closer. Their lips crushed against each other. Feyre was basically sitting on the table now. Rhysand pulled her into his lap and curled his fingers in her hair tightly. She wrapped her arms around his neck. She broke away to take a deep breath and press a kiss to his jawline.

“I like the sound of that too.” Rhysand whispered back, before bringing her mouth back up to his.

* * *

The weeks they spent filming Rhysand and Feyre’s films were a whirlwind of dates and stolen kissing sessions. They were the best weeks of Rhysand’s life. It rained a lot during those days, and Rhysand would kiss her by her doorpost for hours after dates while the two of them got soaked and neither cared.

Mor and the boys liked Feyre, too. Feyre and Mor became close over the days they worked together. They went to lunch and Mor would give Feyre lessons. Feyre was a hard-worker, so when she was assigned a dance with a male in the movie, she and Rhysand practiced every free chance Feyre got. Now Rhysand knew why Feyre had been such a good dancer when they’d first met, she was persistent—never leaving a step alone until she could execute it perfectly. She and Mor had loads of fun on their film.

Rhysand, on the other hand, was having a horrible time. Amarantha’s voice grated on his ears. Her accent barely affected by the numerous diction coaches Lucien had hired. Lucien seemed to be having as much of a horrible time as Rhysand, since every complaint Amarantha had (of which there were many) went to him, and Tamlin made him bend over backwards for his money-making pair. The lines were adequate, but Rhysand thought they were too cheesy, even for a romance. He told Tamlin this, but Tamlin insisted they were fine. Lucien explained to Rhys later that there was no money in the budget for a rewrite with all of the equipment they’d had to buy and then replace after a few mishaps with people dropping the highly sensitive machinery or tripping over wires.

Finally the day came when they wrapped on A Court of Romance and Duels, and the preview was set for three days from final wrap. Enough time for final touches and edits. Rhysand was glad to be finally done with the project. Feyre’s had ended a few weeks earlier, and she and Mor were opening their film soon. They both finally had time to see each other during the downtime between premieres and auditions for new projects. For Feyre, at least, Rhysand never had to audition anymore and since he was part of a duo, people came to him (or rather, them), not the other way around. But after Mor’s new film debuted, Rhysand was sure that Feyre would have offers flying in from everywhere. She was amazing in it.

Feyre’s premiere and Rhysand’s premiere were about a five weeks’ difference, but Feyre’s premiere was a week after Rhysand’s preview, so they would have a little while together before things started getting crazy for either one of them.

The days until A Court of Romance and Duels’ preview passed quickly, and ever supportive, Feyre was on Rhysand’s arm when he, Amarantha, his family, and the production team snuck in to see the reactions of the fans first hand.

Feyre was sandwiched snugly in the back row between Rhysand and Cassian. Amarantha sat on Rhysand’s other side, and beside her sat Tamlin and Lucien respectively. Azriel, for the first time in a preview, sat beside his brothers with Mor beside him.

“How’d you like the view from here, Az?” Cassian asked before the film rolled.

Azriel looked around curiously. “It’s definitely not as bright.” He answered. Since Azriel had always been conducting the orchestra during the silent films he’d never really experienced a preview like a real moving picture.

“I just hope the records work...” Lucien muttered under his breath.

The opening credits began to roll, and the theater quieted down.

The picture ran about an hour forty-five with one intermission, but unfortunately, the viewers never got that far. The motion picture opened with backstory, introducing the villain (the evil Fae King of the Forest, played by the fabulous Kallias White, whom Rhys knew well) who took poor British village girls from their homes at night, and whisked them away to his palace in the woods. His evil monologue about his plans to capture a specific girl (played by Amarantha Scarlett) and take her to be his wife was only accentuated by his curly evil mustache and bug-eyes. Really, Rhys had to commend Kallias, he had done brilliantly with his character. The scene also introduced Rhysand’s character, the son of the villain who was also desperately in love with the Poor Village Girl, and the protagonist of the story.

The first snag they hit was Amarantha’s voice itself, with the quality of the record and the fact that every rustle of her clothes was just as loud as her voice and it was just as grating. At one point Azriel literally stuck his fingers in his ears so as to lessen the pain of her voice and the beads of her necklace which she kept playing with. He wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Feyre and Mor were clearly trying to be polite, but they fidgeted uncomfortably. Cassian, who had been fast asleep (Rhys had been having issues staying awake too, the film was that boring, but the audience loved this stuff so...), bolted out of his chair at the sound. Luckily they were seated in the last row, so he didn’t block anyone’s view.

The second snag that they hit was the first time the Village Girl ran away with the Prince for romantic evening. Rhysand’s lines had been… unimaginative to say the least.

“ _I love you_ ,” His character told Amarantha’s, kissing her arms and hands, “ _I love you,_ ” He said again, kissing her cheeks, “ _I love you!”_ He finally kissed her mouth, the music swelled, and the screen went dark. The lines were presumably symbolic of him growing in accepting his love for her or whatever, but to Rhys they just sounded stupid. When he heard a muffled snicker from Feyre he was of mixed emotions. She had tried to hide it but the lines were so absurd. Rhysand felt validated but also offended, he didn’t want… _this_ to be his legacy!

In the middle of the first fight scene and turning point the film came off of the roll and usually, the audience would be in uproars, but now they were just confused, as if they still had to process what they were seeing. The techies got the film fixed and the rest of the scene played. The audience laughed at the death scene of the Prince’s close friend who sacrificed himself for the Prince and the Girl’s love… which they weren’t supposed to. Intermission struck and Lucien ran into the booth to make sure there would be no more mistakes. Rhys suggested that he and his family avoided Tamlin during the intermission, their producer steamed from all of the issues that had occurred.

When they sat back down to watch the rest of the film no one was excited any longer, except for Amarantha. Rhysand wasn’t sure if her excitement was optimism or stupidity. The picture rolled and almost immediately there was a problem—the voices were out of sync slightly. But it was only slightly. Then as time went on… it became an actual issue. During Amarantha’s scene with Kallias while they fought, the movie became so out of sync that it sounded as though Amarantha was fighting _for_ her character’s imprisonment as opposed to against.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Amarantha cried in a voice that was deep and menacing.

“No! No! No!” Kallias said in a voice that was high pitched and fragile.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“No! No! No!”

The audience began to laugh. Their laughter only grew as with every frame the picture became more and more out of sync until finally Lucien bolted from his chair and into the booth to end the film and send everyone home with apologies and an excuse of “technical difficulties.”

Giggling, the audience left the Nickelodeon, mimicking Amarantha and Kallias’s scene together and the lines they found stupid such as Rhysand’s “I love you!” ramblings.

“That was so bad it was hilarious!” One couple of boys cried as they stumbled from the theater.

“Man, I am _never_ going to see another Scarlett and Fitznox picture again! No matter how handsome he is!” A girl told her friend.

“Come on, let’s go see The Spring Court Singer to wash this from our minds.” A man told his wife and daughters.

Rhysand wished he could disappear.

“It wasn’t _that_ bad...” Feyre said, trying to cheer up Rhys. But nothing could change his mind: this was his worst premiere ever. His career was doomed.

He wasn’t the only one who felt that way, Lucien and Tamlin talked quietly amongst themselves, already wondering what assets they would have to sell off to make up for this flop.

“I liked it!” Amarantha said cheerfully.

Her happiness was really stupidity then, Rhysand decided.

“Come on, let’s go home.” Cassian said.

“We’ll have dinner… that’ll make you feel better.” Azriel added, patting Rhys on the shoulder.

“Yeah, maybe.” Rhysand mumbled disheartened.

“Well I have an early night tomorrow.” Mor said. “Rhysand, I promise, this isn’t the end of the world. We all flop sometimes.”

“Not this big, Mor.” Rhys said miserably.

Mor kissed her cousin’s cheek kindly and turned to Feyre. “Want to split a cab?”

Feyre shook her head. “He needs me...”

“Okay. Boys?”

“You two should go with her.” Lucien said suddenly. The group turned to him surprised. Tamlin and Amarantha were already gone. Lucien clutched his coat closer to himself to keep out of the cold. “We need you in the studio at seven in the morning,” Lucien reminded them, “for Winter Court Wonderland, remember? You’re doing stunts and music.”

Cassian scowled. “Right. Forgot about that.” He glanced at Rhysand.

Rhys put on a smile for his brothers, and Feyre tightened her arms around him. “I’ll be fine guys. Really, go on home. You need your sleep. Besides, I have Feyre to listen to me wallow.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.” Azriel whispered. They exchanged hugs and got into Mor’s cab.

Rhysand put an arm around Feyre and kissed her hair lovingly. “Thanks for staying.”

“I’d never leave you in your time of crisis, you know that.”

“Good night, you two.” Lucien said softly. They’d forgotten he was still there. “We’ll fix this, Rhys. We’ll figure something out. Promise.” He turned to walk to into the street to get a cab when Feyre called out to him.

“Hey, do you want to come over for dinner? Maybe a drink to warm you up after this disaster of a night?” She asked.

Lucien glanced at Rhysand, and Rhys smiled at him. “Misery loves company.” He added.

Lucien smiled back weakly. “Sure. Why not? After all, this is the last night of all of our careers. Well, except you Feyre. Everyone loved you.”

“Hey! I thought you said we would fix this!”

“Rhys.” Lucien said with a sardonic laugh. “I doubt anything could fix this.”

“Don’t say that!” Feyre cried.

“He’s right, Feyre. All we can do now is wallow.”

“Yeah.” Lucien said with a flippant shrug.

“I _still_ believe we can save it.”

“Yeah well,” Lucien sighed, “that’s a problem for future me, I guess. Tonight, we wallow.”

“Hear, hear!” Rhysand agreed miserably. And as icing to the cake that was the worst day of Rhysand’s life, at that exact moment the skies opened up and it began to pour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that this is the last day that you can submit an angsty prompt for the bingo series (27th is the deadline)


	5. Singin' (In the Rain) Star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucien is in this one!!
> 
> Also more dancing ;)

Feyre picks at the leftover cookies from dessert as Rhysand and Lucien continue to talk about A Court of Romance and Duels.

“-Look, we don’t have to redo the whole movie, just all the scenes that I’m in and all the scenes that Amarantha is in-”

“And that means we would have to bring back Kallias and everyone else who worked on the film with you. Rhys, we don’t have that money or time! And Amarantha’s never going to get better-”

“More diction coaches. We work one line at a time-”

“And who’s going to pay for all of that? You and I both knew this picture was just a standby film, nothing we were going to get awards for. Even if it’s the greatest standby film of all time we wouldn’t be able to cover the costs! Much less make a profit-!”

“I won’t let my career be a causality of Amarantha’s voice and bad writing-!”

“What would you have me do then, huh? Sometimes movies just gotta flop-”

“But-”

“ _Okay!_ ” Feyre said loudly, interrupting them. They’d been going around in circles, arguing the same points over and over for hours. “Clearly, this conversation is going nowhere…” Both men slumped in their chairs. Lucien fiddled with his fork. “Let’s put our dishes away and move somewhere more comfortable, don’t you think?”

The boys nodded, slowly standing and cracking their backs. They brought their dishes into the kitchen, and the leftovers of the food and desserts. Rhysand glanced out the kitchen window.

“Huh,” Rhys said, “it’s still raining.”

“Well it’s only-” Feyre glanced at the clock, “holy crap. It’s two in the morning.”

Lucien laughed cynically. “And what a lovely mornin’”

Feyre chewed her lip, as she tried to remember that song they played on the radio at six. “ _Goood morning_ ~”

Lucien grinned. “ _Good morning_.”

“ _It’s great to stay up late, good morning._ ”

“ _Good morning. To you._ ” Rhysand added. They all knew the song well. It was played almost every day on the radio. Not to mention, Rhysand’s mother used to sing the song to him and his brothers every morning when she would wake them up.

“ _In the morning, in the mooorning it’s great! To stay up late, good morning._ ”

“ _Good morning._ ”

“ _To you_.”

Lucien wasn’t sure if it was the fact that he had been up since five in the morning today (well, yesterday technically) and was still awake, or if he was just over-exhausted from other things, but he gladly sang along with Feyre and Rhysand. Rhysand laughed and took Feyre by the hand and the two of them danced in the kitchen. Rhysand twirled her away and she laughed that type of slap-happy laugh that anyone who had stayed up too late with their friends knew.

Feyre opened the window as they sang “Good Morning” and took a deep breath of the raining air.

“ _The stars were shining bright,_ ” Rhysand grabbed Feyre’s hand, and pulled her away from the window and to the door into the other room. On her way out she grabbed Lucien’s hand and led him out too. Feyre pulled him into foxtrot and Lucien laughed as he danced with her.

Lucien missed the times he’d worked as an actor. Though truth be told, he never did anything than musicals and ballets. He’d had a major background ballet, and a minor one in tap. He’d sung too, but not too much. He was a better dancer than singer.

“ _We’ve gabbed the whole night through_ ,” Feyre laughed and the two of them sat down as Rhysand tap danced across his wooden floors to the song.

“ _Good morning, good morning to you!_ ”

Rhysand noticed Lucien tapping his toes to the beat and grabbed his arm and pulled him to dance with him. Lucien laughed and followed Rhysand’s steps. Rhys was definitely the better dancer, but he slowed down his steps and Lucien caught on pretty quickly. Feyre watched them intently for a minute before joining them.

Together they danced over to the coat stand (Feyre in the lead) and Feyre grabbed her coat, using it as a dancing partner. Rhysand laughed and when she handed it off to him he pretended to be a bull fighter. Then he passed off the coat to Lucien and Lucien grinned and used it in place of a grass skirt to hula with. Feyre and Rhysand cracked up and Lucien tossed the coat back to Feyre who was the closest to the stand. She snatched it from the air and placed it back on the coat stand with a flourish.

Rhysand grabbed Lucien’s hands and whirled him into the living room. The two of them danced, each one doing a move slightly harder than the other, though both knew that Rhysand would end up winning. Feyre giggled to herself by the wet bar and Rhysand skidded up to her, twirling her into the mix. Feyre did her own small group of steps, heels tapping against the floor. Then she took off running at the couch and Rhysand and Lucien, laughing as they followed, joined her. They leapt atop the couch and leaned against the back and when it fell against the floor with a loud _clunk_. The trio skidded off of the couch and they slipped back onto it as one, landing and sending dust and lint everywhere. Giggling hysterically from the late hour, they curled upon one another.

Once their giggle fits finished they lay against one another, sighing in heavy breaths.

“That was fun.” Feyre said with a grin.

Lucien laughed breathlessly. “Yeah… too bad we can’t do that all the time.”

“What?” Rhysand asked, “sing a happy song and have all of our trouble just float away?”

“Oh? And what troubles have floated away?” Lucien asked cynically though there was no malice in his voice. “A Court of Romance and Duels is still screwed, and no amount of singing and dancing will fix it.”

Rhysand sighed dramatically and leaned his head against Feyre’s shoulder.

Feyre’s eyes widened and she sat up straighter. “But what if it did?” She asked.

“Huh?”

“What if singing and dancing _did_ save A Court of Romance and Duels? Turn it into a musical!”

Lucien sat up slightly, staring at her as if she’d just grown another head.

Rhysand gasped. “Yeah!” He added. “That could work! Keep the good parts, like Kallias’s scenes, and then for scenes like the love scenes, just add a love song and a small dance! A little trim here and cut there, it would be perfect!”

“It could work...” Lucien said slowly. “We wouldn’t have to pay that much… Az would probably do it for half rate, if you or Cassian choreograph we won’t need to spend money on that… You’re as good as professionals anyway… You and-” Lucien’s eyes widened. “Oh no. We can’t do it.”

“What? Why not?” Feyre asked.

“Amarantha.”

“ _Amarantha_.” The others said in unison, dropping back against the couch defeatedly.

“She can’t sing, she can’t dance, she can’t act.” Rhysand mumbled.

“The triple threat.”

“Then-Then don’t have her sing and dance.” Feyre said.

“We can’t just have _one_ person singing and dancing, Feyre.” Lucien said. “Then it’s not a musical. It just looks stupid.”

“Yeah. It’s not like we transplant her voice or something,” Rhysand groaned.

Feyre and Rhysand sighed at the same time, Feyre’s slightly more silently and Rhys’s louder, so when Lucien looked at Feyre it sounded like her voice had dropped an octave.

“Wait- What if we could?”

“I don’t follow.” Rhys said, eyes narrowed.

Lucien stood and grabbed Feyre’s hands, bringing her up with him. “Feyre stand behind me.” Shrugging and as confused as Rhys, Feyre did as she was told.

“Now start singing ‘Good Morning’.” Lucien said. He started moving his mouth as Feyre began to sing. Just like when A Court of Romance and Duels had gone out of sync, Feyre’s voice looked as though it was coming through Lucien’s mouth.

“Well? What do you think?” Lucien asked when his point was proved.

“Enchanting. _What_?” Rhys asked.

“We have Amarantha’s face, and Feyre’s voice! It’s perfect!”

“Well, what about the dancing?”

“Have it be easy stuff for her, just swaying or something. You can dance around her. No one will see her feet anyway, and you can make up for her!”

Rhysand nodded. “Yeah.. _Yeah!_ This could work!”

“We can save A Court of Romance and Duels!” Lucien cried. He turned around and kissed Feyre on the forehead. He then turned to Rhysand and the two hugged, laughing happily.

“Don’t you mean A Court or Romance and Dancing?” Feyre asked with a chuckle.

Lucien’s eyes widened. “That’s-That’s perfect!”

“This isn’t the end!”

“Oh Rhysand. We only have six weeks… And Feyre has her tour-! I have so much to do.” Lucien ran over to his coat and hat. “Forgive me, I have to go. There’s so much I need to prepare. Don’t expect to get any sleep for a while Rhysand. We’re doing reshoots all day!”

“Yes sir!” Rhysand said, saluting Lucien.

Lucien halted, with one hand on the door. He turned around. “Of course, we’d pay you Feyre. And I know things are so busy but do you mind- It would be a one time thing, and it can’t be much but-”

“Whatever I can do to save Rhysand’s career.” Feyre promised. “Besides, I was getting kinda bored with nothing to do until the premiere.”

Lucien grinned. “Oh Feyre, if I didn’t have to go I’d kiss you.” He said. He shouted out a short “Goodbye!” and was out the door.

Rhysand turned to Feyre. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Feyre shrugged. “It’s only one time. Besides, I’d do anything for you.”

“And I you, darling.” Rhysand bent down and kissed Feyre thoroughly. “You really are the best girlfriend.”

“And don’t I know it.” Feyre said with a laugh, ready for what the future weeks would bring.

Or so she thought.

* * *

The days passed quickly. When Feyre and Rhysand arrived at Prythian Productions Lucien had clearly not gone to sleep. His hair was frizzy and pulled back into a messy bun, his clothes were wrinkled, he had bags under his eyes. Despite all of that, he seemed the most awake of any of them. He’d micromanaged their scheduling to the minute. Musicals took longer to edit than straight films so he had to give Production a week, which meant that Feyre would have a week to dub the lines and songs of Amarantha before she would be busy with her premiere, after that she would have another week right before final edits.

Lucien had a conference with Azriel during Az’s lunch break and Az agreed that the quickest way to turn A Court of Romance and Duels into A Court of Romance and Dancing was to use mostly already made songs, and then just add one or two originals. This was a technique used in many film-only musicals of the time, so Lucien knew the format could work. He told the proposition to Tamlin and Tamlin was ecstatic at the prospect of not losing money. He brought up his one condition which Lucien agreed with whole-heartedly. Lucien quickly made the proposition known to all working on the project.

_Don’t tell Amarantha._

Amarantha had too large of an ego to not make a fuss, and she was needed for this movie (it being a Scarlett and Fitznox Film). If she found out that she was getting dubbed over the whole project was screwed, because, Lucien and Tamlin agreed, she would never let such a thing fly.

Feyre would get credits, of course. Lucien promised her that, though she waved it off, saying she was glad to help out. But Lucien wouldn’t budge. She would get her time in the credits. This was a large project and seeing her name in the credits was a _major_ career boost, not that she really needed it with her project with Mor. But every little bit helps, Lucien told her.

So this was Feyre’s life for the next few weeks. With the approval of Mor and Rhysand as a test audience, Lucien added a couple songs. He recorded Feyre singing them with Azriel’s accompaniment. While Feyre read lines for Amarantha Cassian and Rhysand were hard at work choreographing the dance scenes. On Rhys and Lucien’s down time the two also fiddled with some of the lines, and reshot some frames.

When Amarantha was told that there would be reshoots of certain scenes to turn them into a musical, she didn’t question them. They reshot with Amarantha while Mor and Feyre were on tour. Pretending that Amarantha would be singing, they taught her the songs necessary (which, in and of itself took a week) and the dances she could pretend to preform in her copious costume-dresses.

The reshoots went well, though there were a few line changes. When Feyre finally returned, Azriel had finished the two original songs which would be featured. Feyre got to work learning the songs. When not rehearsing the songs she read for some of the changed lines.

Everything was going smoothly with two days for final reshoots before editing needed to take the records.

Lucien was sitting in the recording studio as Feyre sang into the recording device one of the original songs. She followed Amarantha’s mouth on the screen in front of her as she sang. Rhysand sat in the studio with Lucien watching her work when the door banged open.

Lucien’s eyes widened. The whole take would have to be scrapped. Who would do such a thing! There was a sign saying that they were recording-

Lucien met her eyes. There stood Amarantha, back tall and face in a sneer. Behind her stood the twins, Dagdan and Brannagh. Lucien knew those two were trouble, always in the tabloids with some scandal or another, and here they were, ruining Lucien’s last possible attempt to save this motion picture.

“Thanks you two.” Amarantha snarled. “You’re real pals!”

The two huffed and flounced from the room.

“ _You!_ ” Amarantha screeched, strutting towards Feyre who had stopped singing to see what the interruption was. “You! It _had_ to be you! And no one bothered to tell me? Why you _little_ -”

“Amarantha! What is wrong with you?”

“Leave Feyre alone!” Rhysand growled at her. “She’s just doing what you could never do!”

“ _What I could never_ -!” Amarantha gasped, clearly offended. “How _dare_ you! First she gets a part in Mor’s movie even though I _told_ Tamlin that she’d _humiliated_ me in front of the whole acting community! And then! You get her to _replace_ me!”

“That’s _not_ what’s going on-” Lucien tried to explain.

Amarantha cut him off. “No! What do you think I am? Dumb or something? I know treachery when I see it and _ooooh_!” She stabbed a finger at Feyre. “ _I see it alright_!”

“Amarantha-”

“I’ll make sure you never work in this town again!” Amarantha spat. “ _Some_ people still respect me! I was big before either of you were in the picture, I’ll be big long after the two of you are gone! No one disrespects Amarantha Scarlett and gets away with that.” Amarantha whirled on Feyre. “Pack your bags _sweetie_ , after _I’m_ through with you, no one will hire you for _birthday parties_!” And with that, Amarantha stormed from the room.

Lucien and Rhysand exchanged glances. This was _exactly_ why they hadn’t wanted to tell her. And they had been so _close!_ So close to finishing everything! Now, they were screwed.

Feyre wiped tears from her eyes. She knew her career was over, just like it had been at her theater agency back when she’d accidentally thrown that pastry in Amarantha’s face. _Well,_ she thought miserably, _I had a good run._

“Shit.” Rhysand whispered under his breath.


	6. Sweet Content, Dreaming Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh my favorite quote from the movie is "What do you think I am, dumb or somthing?" so thats why I use it in this fic lol. 
> 
> Last chapter! It's been a blast! Thank you all for such kind comments! <3

Amarantha Scarlett was waiting in Tamlin Rose’s office when he entered. She was dressed in her usual fashionable attire, casually flipping through a newspaper. Her feet were propped up on his desk and she sat in his chair. Tamlin scowled. No one sat in his chair, not even his golden goose.

“Good morning Amarantha. What is it today? Water not wet enough?” He asked.

Amarantha laughed sweetly. Tamlin’s hackles rose. He hated that tone in her voice… it always meant more trouble for him, but never enough to make it worth cutting her loose. “Why must I have something to complain about to come here, Tam? I thought we were friends.”

Tamlin shoved her shoes off of his desk and sat on the edge (since he knew she wouldn’t get up until she was right and ready). “We aren’t friends, Ama. You’re my starlet. Nothing more.”

“Hmm. Shame. This would be so much easier if we were friends.” She said. Amarantha crossed one leg over the other, and shoved the newspaper she had been holding into Tamlin’s hands.

Tamlin turned it over and his mouth dropped when he read the headline.

“ **AMARANTHA SCARLETT IS AN INSPIRATION ON FILM, A TRUE STAR** **.” - Tamlin Rose**

“I-I never said that.” Tamlin said, glancing up at Amarantha.

Amarantha’s delicate eyebrows raised. “No? Are you calling the-” She glanced at the paper in his hands, “ _Hollywood Starlight News_ liars?” She bent down to the bag she’d placed behind Tamlin’s chair. Slowly she pulled out newspaper after newspaper. “And the _Prythian Press_? And the _Golden Queen Gazette_? The _Firebird Files_? The _Hybern Gossip_? The _Summer Sun-Times_? The-”

“Amarantha...” Tamlin interrupted, glancing at every headline of the papers she’d thrown into his lap. “What did you _do_?”

“Or do you want to tell them that Amarantha Scarlett is a big, fat, stinkin’ liar.”

Tamlin shifted the tabloids between his hands. He put them aside and prepared for the worst. “What do you want?”

“Feyre Archeron.”

“I won’t fire her.”

“Oh, I don’t want her _fired_!” Amarantha said sweetly. “In fact, I want her to keep doing what she’s been doing. Forever.”

Tamlin stood. “No.”

“Tamlin~” Amarantha sang softly.

“No, Ama. I won’t do that to her. Being your voice forever-No one will ever see her face! Amarantha, that’s career suicide!”

“No. This is.” Amarantha smiled wickedly. “She can’t be credited.”

“No. Amarantha, I won’t do that. I _can’t_ do that.”

“Actually, you can. She signed a contract with you. You can do anything-well,” Amarantha smiled. She stood, walking over to Tamlin. “Almost anything.”

“You can’t make me do that.” Tamlin snarled. “I _won’t_ do it.”

“Yes, you will. Or,” Amarantha slid a bundle of papers from her back pocket. “I’ll sue.”

“What?”

“I will sue.” She said again. She let Tamlin snatch the contract from her hands and flip through it wildly. “Page seventeen, clause nine. If you contract anyone to work for me, I can dictate the terms of their employment, including their terms of being credited. And if you go to any of those tabloids and say I lied I can sue for slander. If you refuse to do this, I’ll sue for contract violation.” She smiled sweetly at Tamlin, taking the contract from him. Tamlin’s eyes were wide and mouth gaping at the blackmail. “I can take everything you have, Tam. I can take this chair. I can take your awards. I can take this company! I did my research, Tam. What do you think I am?” She asked with a sunny smile, “Dumb or something?”

* * *

“Tamlin! You can’t let her do that!” Cassian cried.

“Feyre’s career is over!” Rhysand shouted.

“It’s unethical _and_ unfair!”

“There’s _nothing_ I can do.” Tamlin told them. “She has me by the-” Tamlin glanced at Feyre, not wanting to say something vulgar in front of her. “Look. She can’t just sue me if I refuse. She can take _all_ of Prythian and she can sue Feyre. Feyre doesn’t have the financial ability to fight that—Rhysand, _you_ don’t have the financial ability to fight it. Not to mention all of you would lose your jobs and would be blacklisted.”

“So if we don’t let her do this, we’re all screwed is what you’re telling us.” Azriel said slowly.

Tamlin nodded. “I’m sorry Feyre.”

Feyre stared at her hands, tears dripped down her face. This was even worse than she’d imagined. It was one thing to be fired from Prythian or blacklisted from Hollywood. Even then she could move to another city or country and still work, but being forced by her contract into working for Amarantha without credits and without her face being shown…

That was a fate worse than death.

“This is all my fault,” Lucien whispered to her. “I’m so sorry, Feyre.”

“You couldn’t have foreseen this.” Feyre told him. She wiped her eyes. “It’s okay, Lucien.”

“No, it isn’t.” Rhysand snarled. He stood, heading for the door. “I’m going to give her a piece of my mind-”

“Don’t!” Feyre cried. Rhysand froze. “Don’t. You’ll only make it worse.”

“How could it _possibly_ get worse?” Cassian asked rhetorically.

Lucien and Tamlin exchanged glances. “Feyre’s right. Amarantha had no conscience. She’s ruthless.” Tamlin said.

“Don’t ask how it could get worse, she’ll probably take it as a challenge.” Lucien added.

“So what can we do?” Rhysand asked helplessly. He hated being helpless.

“Nothing. We do what she says. At least for now.” Az said.

“We’ll figure something out, Feyre. I promise.” Lucien said. “Just like we did with A Court of Romance and Dancing. _Something_.” Rhysand nodded, agreeing whole-heartedly.

“We won’t let her get away with this.” Cassian added.

Feyre smiled up at her boys. “Thanks guys.” Though she doubted they would be able to do anything. Amarantha had beaten them.

* * *

Feyre and Rhysand had been banking on the week of editing to be one to relax, but that was before Amarantha had found out. Instead, Amarantha insisted on Feyre joining her every moment of the day (even for lunch breaks) so she could go over the rules of their “Arrangement” as she called it. Amarantha told Feyre about new projects, interviews, anything that Amarantha was interested in. They would discuss it (or rather, Amarantha would talk while Feyre kept her mouth shut for as much of it as she could) and then Amarantha would talk to her agent about taking the job.

The week passed quickly, and finally came the premiere of A Court of Romance and Dancing. The six of them (Lucien, Azriel, Cassian, Feyre, Amarantha, and Rhysand) were seated backstage while Tamlin greeted the guests.

“-And without further ado: A Court of Romance and Dancing!” Tamlin said, waving a hand behind him. The curtains spread from the projection screen and they watched the movie from the sidelines. Rhysand kept his hand intertwined with Feyre’s. To comfort her or him he wasn’t sure. Feyre had been taking the whole ‘career end’ thing extremely well. Better than Rhysand ever could. Had he been the one at Amarantha’s mercy he would have lost himself already.

As the film played Rhysand tightened his grip on Feyre nervously. She patted his hand calmly. How could she be so calm? Her future was up in flames!

The crowd sat rapt. Their breathes hitched as ~~Amarantha~~ Feyre began to sing. They applauded so loudly that no one could hear the next few lines after the love song. Feyre flushed happily, and she was silently congratulated on the reception from her friends. Amarantha proudly stuck her nose in the air, as if she had done anything to deserve that applause. Rhysand was angry but he hid it, showing his anger to Amarantha would only make things worse. The musical went on, and Rhys bit his tongue.

At the end of the film the audience was in uproars, shouting for a speech. A Court of Romance and Dancing had been a success! It was hard for Lucien or Rhys to feel happy about their accomplishment though when it had come at the expense of Feyre.

Tamlin stood and straightened his lapel, ready to go out on the stage as the curtain fell to cover the screen when Amarantha stood up.

“I’ll make the speech.” She said.

Eyes widened. “Amarantha-! You can’t-!”

Amarantha sneered at the others. “Can’t what? Take you for all you’ve got? Listen to them!”

“AMARANTHA! AMARANTHA!” The crowd roared, cheering her name.

“They’re calling for _me_. Not _you._ Not _Rhysand_. _Me._ And that’s what I’m sure as heck gonna give them! _I’ll_ be the one making the closing speeches from now on! Thank you very much!” And with that she flounced onto the stage, gratefully waving to her audience. Tamlin surged to go after her, but Az tugged at Lucien’s hand and whispered something into his ear and Lucien caught Tamlin before he could leave.

“Wait!” Lucien said, nodding to Azriel. “If she wants to _speak_ , let her.”

“Are you crazy, Lucien? She’ll ruin everything!”

“Why? The picture is just as good as it was a minute ago, all that’s different is Amarantha.” Azriel put in.

Tamlin’s eyebrows rose slightly, a grin coloring his face. “Oh. _Oh_.”

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Amarantha said into the microphone on the stage. The crowd fell silent immediately, confused. “It has been our pleasure to bring to you A Court of Romance and Dancing, our first musical-”

“Drop the act, Amarantha!” Someone shouted.

“Yeah, Ama! Speak normally!”

“Yeah!”

“Sing for us Ama! You have such a beautiful voice!”

“Yeah, Amarantha! Sing!”

“Sing!”

“SING! SING! SING!” The crowd chanted, littered with calls for “Encore!”

White, Amarantha hurried backstage, waving a ‘wait a second’ gesture to the audience. Clearly she hadn’t thought this far ahead. “Tamlin! What am I going to do? Tamlin, help! What do I do? I can’t sing!”

Azriel whispered something into Rhys’ ear and he nodded. “Don’t worry, Amarantha. Azriel, get in the orchestra pit. Cassian, find a microphone and put it behind the curtain. Feyre, you’re going to go behind the curtain and sing for Amarantha!” Rhysand said.

Azriel and Cassian jumped into motion. It had been Azriel’s idea which he had shared with Lucien and then Rhys. But Feyre was still in the dark. Feyre gasped, affronted. “No!”

“Feyre, please. Amarantha go out there and stall while Cassian sets up.” Amarantha nodded, straightened her back and walked back on stage. “Feyre, just go out there. Az has a plan, I-”

“No! I can’t believe this, Rhysand! I may have to work for her forever, but I _will not_ lie to the audience again tonight!”

“Feyre! Just-! Everyone come here!” Rhysand hissed, pulling them close to him. He explained to herthe plan. Feyre’s eyes widened, and a smirk traveled onto her face.

“Perfect. I can’t believe I doubted you.” Feyre pressed a quick kiss to Rhysand before she hurried behind the curtain to the microphone Cassian had set up.

After an appropriate amount of time to let everyone get ready Azriel asked Amarantha from the pit: “What song, Miss Scarlett?”

Amarantha leaned backwards towards the curtain. Feyre whispered the song to her.

“You Are My Lucky Star.” Amarantha said into the microphone.

“What key?” Azriel asked.

Amarantha leaned backwards again, and then back. “F Major.”

Azriel tapped his conductor’s wand against the piano. It was a good thing that Feyre had chosen a well known song, that way the orchestra could preform it (or at least the melody) without sheet music.

The song started off slow. Feyre’s voice rung through the auditorium. Amarantha swayed slightly as she sung, her hands moving as if she was actually singing. Rhysand had to admit, if he hadn’t known he wouldn’t figure it out. Amarantha was a better actress than he gave her credit for. But his attenion was mostly focused on Feyre. Feyre’s voice like feathered honey, surged though the theater. Lucien glanced out at the audience, just as they were on the edge of their seats, eyes filled with tears, he nodded to Rhysand.

Rhysand and Tamlin grinned at one another. As Feyre’s voice hit a crescendo, Rhysand and Tamlin grabbed the ropes that controlled the curtain, and pulled it back.

The crowd burst into laughter, as they saw Feyre singing behind an oblivious Amarantha. Feyre waved guiltily to the crowd before her. Amarantha, unnerved by the laughter, continued singing until Rhysand ran up to Feyre and pushed her aside, singing in his deep voice “ _You’ve opened heaven’s portal, here on Earth for this poor mortal_.”

Amarantha gasped, eyes wide as she turned around. Rhysand winked at her and then bowed to the hysterical crowd. Amarantha screamed and ran off stage, mortified.

“This, ladies and gentlemen!” Rhysand cried, taking Feyre (flushed from the cheering crowd) into his arm. “This is the voice you heard tonight! Feyre Archeron! The newest addition to the Prythian Productions family!” Now Amarantha had been caught, anything said about her couldn’t be considered slander and grounds for a law suit. Even if she did manage to sue and took Prythian into her dainty treacherous hands, she wouldn’t be able to put Feyre on the sidelines or out of work, not when her introduction had been so public and she was so beloved for her voice. That would be bad press.

“See Feyre, Darling. I told you we’d fix it.”

Feyre glanced up at Rhysand. Feyre pressed a kiss to his cheek. That only made the crowd go even wilder. “Thanks.”

“For you, Darling?” Rhysand whispered back, before pressing a reciprocating kiss to her mouth. The crowd roared so loudly Rhysand could no longer hear anything but the beating of his own heart and hers. “Anything.”


End file.
